I’m sorry I have the tendency to project on my favorite characters, esp ones I relate to. I needed to write this out. Smallmarch undertones. Plus I’m not a great writer I just wanted to vent into writing so… Sorry?

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One extraordinarily bright morning, Damien discovered his curtains were not quite closed and his face just happened to be in the line of fire. He groaned softly and was prepared to cover his face and go back to sleep– it was his day off, who could blame him– and as soon as he rolled over he was aware of the soreness in his upper body. He looked down to realize that he was not in his usual black baggy t-shirt for bed, but instead his binder. He frowned, silently cursing himself as he sat up. Damien was usually so careful about binding, but he must have been so tired after his shift the night before that he forgot to take it off.
Binding safety had always been his number one priority… If it was done wrong, his top surgery could be complicated.
Letting out a huge sigh, he swung his feet over the edge of the bed and trudged into the bathroom for his morning routine.

When he was out of the shower, he wrapped himself in a long black silk robe and made his way to the kitchen to make breakfast for Lucien. He got out his gluten-free pancake mix and the rest of the ingredients, his robe loosening as he moved about the room. He kept tightening the knot and adjusting the sleeves, irritated. He felt like sobbing; while his chest wasn’t as prominent as before, they were still very much there, and he hated it.

Lucien’s heavy combat boots stopped down the hallway as he was getting ready for school. He was a senior now, and his schedule had thankfully allowed him to start the day later on. He was surprised to see his dad out of his usual attire. “Hey… Something happen to your vest or something?”

Damien shook his head, “No, son. Do you want blueberries?”

“Yeah, on the side.” Lucien sat at the breakfast table as his dad finished up the pancakes and brought them to the table. As Damien sat down, his son could clearly see that he had been crying. “…are you ok?”

Damien, who was forking his pancake, looked up, tugging a stray hair behind his ear. He cleared his throat. “…hard morning.” Was all he could manage.

Lucien frowned. “Is.. is it a dysphoria thing? If.. that’s the case I can stay home. I mean…”

“Yes. It is. But Lucien, you will not use me as an excuse not to go to school. You have to get your Government grades up. I’ll be fine.” Damien sighed. He was usually good at fronting an image when this happened, but he was clearly struggling. He felt bad leaning on his son for support.

“..Okay.” Lucien said, scarfing down the last of his pancake. He made it a point to be more thankful. “I really appreciate you… Making breakfast. Uh… I love you, Dad.” He offered a small smile to his father.

“I love you too, son.” Damien felt a little better knowing that his son was always supportive and knew that he was having an incredibly hard time.

Damien began to clean up breakfast, quietly thanking Lucien for giving him something else to intensely focus on. He then received a message from Robert.

‘Lucien told me you’re having a rough morning. I’m coming over.’

Sure enough, less than a minute later, there was a knock at the door. Robert let himself in, closing the large doors behind him. “Damien?”

Damien frowned. “Please don’t look at me right now, Robert. I’m terribly under dressed, and I am quite uncomfortable at the moment.”

Robert sighed, raising his voice slightly so he could be heard. “I could bring you some… Baggy clothing? And then you could walk over to my place and play with Betsy. That usually helps.”

“… That sounds great.” Damien replied after a moment, hiding away in the kitchen still.

“I’ll be right back with the clothes.”

“I’ll be outside the lavatory, if you could please set the clothes outside them and knock on the door when they are there.”

“Sure thing.” Robert says as he turns around to leave.

When Robert returns again, he could hear quiet sobs coming from the bathroom. He hated seeing Damien like this. He set the clothes on the floor in front of the door and knocked softly. He knew Damien wasn’t okay, and there was no point in asking.

When Damien finally got changed he walked out in a huge baggy black shirt and cargo pants. His hair was tied up. It, in all honesty, was different, but was a good look. They walked silently to Robert’s and Betsy immediately greeted to two, focusing on Damien. She hated seeing one of her favorite humans sad and tried her best to console him with kisses.

The three of them curled up on the couch, watching Long Haul Paranormal Ice Road Ghost Truckers. Damien felt a lot better, having someone who cared, a dog, and a brief distraction from reality as he took a nap on Robert’s shoulder, Betsy sprawled out in both of their laps.

For the past 24 years, Leif Haugen has spent his summers living alone atop a mountain in Montana’s pristine wilderness. As a fire lookout for the U.S. Forest Service, Leif is charged with protecting the surrounding landscape, watching for signs of fire from his solitary perch. Spending up to two weeks alone at a time, he spends his days unwinding amid the peace and quiet, watching as the world passes him by.

A follow up to this slice of perfection from @thefairfleming, spun from fake spoilers that, quoth she, said “Jon would end the series basically Frodo/Muad’Dib-ing it beyond the Wall.” She suggested the one line of dialogue and it all went from there. OTP: HERE’S A THING RIDES AGAIN.

*

Title: Love is a Sacrament That Should Be Taken KneelingFandom: A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of ThronesPairing: Jon Snow/Sansa StarkRating: MWords: 800Summary: It’s as if it took coming South for Jon Snow to finally thaw.

*

It feels colder now than it ever used to feel,
the bite of the wind somehow harsher, harder. It gets into his bones and makes
him feel like a creaking old man when he rises with the dawn to occupy himself
with the menial tasks that fill his days. It hadn’t seemed so cold here
when he’d first ranged north of the Wall so long ago, as a man of the Night’s
Watch. Perhaps it’s his age that makes him feel it so sharply now, or perhaps
the death that once held him in its icy grip is reluctant to let go, even after
all these years.

Or perhaps it’s only that Jon remembers how
warm everything had seemed when Sansa was here; anything else could only seem
colder by compare.

Derek. Cop and Zone Patrol Officer. It’s been 10 years since the fire. 9 years, 11 months and three weeks since he was given a permit to leave the Outskirts. 5 years since he earned a permit to work the zones. It’s only been 2 since the world found out about Manticore.

Stiles. Escaped Manticore Subject Style5. A sub-division from the X-5 line. One of a kind. Stiles isn’t like the others. He has a unique ability. One that none of the others have. And Manticore wants it back.

Stiles tips his chin up, smiling against his irritation. “Nope,” he confirms, so cheerily it bites. They had arranged this weeks ago, yet Deaton was apparently betting Stiles wouldn’t go through with it in the end. Fuck that. He doesn’t know what it’s like out there, not really. He can afford to hold himself aloof and uninvolved, knowing his druid power is enough to keep him safe in this little office. Stiles can’t. Scott’s pack has got to protect this whole town, and Stiles’ spark isn’t enough to protect all of them while they do it.

The thing is, magic isn’t like the fairy tales. It’s blood and risk and sacrifice. Nothing comes without a price, and anyone who tries to say different is baiting a hook to gut you on. Stiles knows that, has known it since he was a kid and his mother started training him for the inevitable day when he’d need to fight for his life.

That day had come four years ago when she died, and it hasn’t stopped yet.

Hunter’s took over and four Protected Territories remain to take in Supernaturals. Beacon Hills is one of them. They destroy the Camp holding many Supernaturals, rescuing those inside. Stiles, Derek, and his Betas end up separated from the others taking longer to get home.

The remains of Trooper Ronald Moore’s truck, Te Aroha, destroyed at the battle of Jebel Sherif, January 31, 1941. When the LRDG was ambushed at this site, Moore and his three men were in the truck when it was disabled; they continued to lay down fire as the rest of the patrol escaped before the truck caught fire and ammunition began to go off.
Moore and his three compatriots were alone and practically doomed, but they were determined to survive – even with shrapnel in the neck of Guardsman Easton, and Moore himself being wounded in the foot, and barefoot to boot. With almost no water and no food at all, their journey lasted for ten days before the Free French rescued them, one by one. Sadly, Scots Guard Easton (who had the neck wound) died shortly after he was given sweet tea by the French – his last words being “I take my tea without sugar.” Moore, the last to be picked up, was almost 335 kilometres away from the wreckage of Te Aroha, having walked all the way on a wounded foot without shoes. Easton was the first Scottish Guardsman to die in the North African Campaign.

Vlad masters was a very busy man. If he wasn’t putting out financial fires at his various companies, he was plotting his latest diabolical scheme, or toying with young Daniel for his own amusement. Working day and night without rest. Today however, was a glorious rarity. Today was his day off.

Request: Can I request a story where the reader (ravenclaw) and the marauders are the only ones to stay at hogwarts for the holiday break, and they try to get to know her but she’s always in her tower or the library and the only one who she lets be around her is Remus, until Christmas where she finally goes with them and they have a snowball fight and mess around the whole day and it’s just cute? - anon

Peter cleared his throat. “We don’t have the whole castle to ourselves. There’s a girl over there.” He pointed at you, a Ravenclaw who was hurrying along, keeping your head down and clutching a stack of books to your chest.

“Damn it,” Sirius muttered. “Almost to ourselves.” He grinned at you and waved. “How’s it going, sweetheart? Want to join us in the Great Hall?”

You didn’t answer, just scoffed and kept walking. But you tripped over the air in an effort to speed up and dropped your books all over the floor. Remus approached you and smiled kindly. “Sorry about them,” he said apologetically. “Let me get these for you.” He bent over to help you gather your books. “So I guess we’re the only ones here, right?”

You smiled hesitantly at him. “Yeah, guess so.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “…do you want to join us in the Great Hall? You don’t have to eat alone.”

Shaking your head, you took your books from him. “No, thank you. But, um, I’ll be in the library if you want to join me, later.”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Yeah, I’ll find you there.”

You walked off in the other direction, throwing him one more smile over your shoulder. He’s cute, you thought, heading toward the Ravenclaw tower to pick up some work before you went to the library. Maybe you would spend some time with him over break.

There’s a garden of vivid blue flowers just on the outskirts of Stormcatcher’s territory. On the border of Fire Flight where the old volcanic rock has long since settled and the two magics mingle to create new life in the now fertile soil. In his very few breaks that grow ever shorter Stormcatcher likes to sit upon a rudimentary bench he built many days ago and enjoy the calm.

The Shifting Expanse offers a silent serenity that is only found in the deepest stretches of deserts. The knowledge that settles in your bones being that you are the only thing breathing for many miles. A knowledge that condemns the lost but soothes those who are home. The flowers curl in the cool breeze at Stormcatcher’s feet and he turns his gaze upwards to the starry sky. He recalls the first time a dragon brought him flowers.

He was sitting at his desk eyes blurred from reading far too many reports with too little coffee in his mug. He lifted his reading glasses and rubbed at the marks they left behind on his snout. Just as he moved to replace them an intern appeared in his open doorway. Stormcatcher sighed in a mix of relief and irritation at the interruption but waved the spiral in regardless.

“I have your mail for today boss. We’ve sorted out all the invitations for you to join clans and returned their money. So this stack is business only. Oh! But I do have this gift here that we weren’t quite sure what to do with.” The spiral set the stack of mail in the appropriate bin before withdrawing a cylindrical package.

The package has no return address and is composed of rough paper and a poorly tied ribbon. The spiral gives it a simple tug and the paper falls to reveal a bouquet of flowers. Each one entirely different from the others, the bouquet is a beautiful swath of colors that Stormcatcher never recalls seeing in his land. “Why would someone send me this? Are they an offering?” He recalls the creatures from before dragonkind would leave gifts for him and the other deities in front of the Pillar they had enclosed themselves in. But not many dragons offer him gifts without expecting anything in return these days. An unmarked package such as this is not something he knows how to handle.

“I’m not sure boss but I can speak with the mail courier and see if they have any insight.” The spiral replies before shuffling their feet. “Would you- um- would you like a vase for these?” Stormcatcher pauses before slowly peering around at his very empty office.

“Uh ya just set them on that corner table when you’re done.” The spiral nodded and returned shortly after collecting supplies. Setting a simple glass vase down they filled it with water and gently placed the flowers down inside, taking a moment to fluff them and turn them to the nicest angle before leaving Stormcatcher’s office. The deity gazed over at the bouquet for a few baffled moments and finally shook his head and put his reading glasses back on.

Six more days and six more bouquets have appeared in Stormcatcher’s office. His interns were unable to find their source as the mail courier never meets the dragon that sends them. Instead the package is delivered to their facility in Fire Flight and goes through the various systems before being passed along to them. The interns were glad to at least have found out where the flowers are coming from and now shift their time to try to find the meaning behind the bouquets. Although the dragons have swaths of experience with technology and engineering their experience with flowers and feelings is severely lacking.

So when Lightweaver appears for her weekly visit and props her feet upon her rival’s desk Stormcatcher is shocked to hear her remark, “Nice flowers. They really bring out the three pens on your desk. So what did you do to get so many heartfelt thank you’s? Did you give your employees a job at a better company?”

“Heartfelt thank you’s?”

Lightweaver scoffed and leaned over, effortlessly plucking out a single bright blue flower from one vase. “This one here is in every bouquet you have. It means ‘thank you from the very depths of my soul’. And the others there are a mix of ‘keep my loved ones safe’ and ‘wishing you happiness’.” Stormcatcher pulled the flower from her hand and studied it closer.

“That’s strange why is someone going through all this work to thank me when they can just send a letter instead or meet me here?” He thought out loud.

Lightweaver shrugged and unwrapped a hard candy she snagged from the lobby desk. “Maybe this is just the only way they can speak to you.” She tossed the candy in her mouth with a horrific crunch. Stormcatcher’s eye twitched and he set the flower down.

Many months passed and his office filled with flowers. Each one possessing the same blue flower in its center. Stormcatcher visited the mail center but was shooed away by a snapper who insisted that being a deity does not put him above the law and she will not disclose anybody’s information to him. And so he now finds himself pacing the border pausing every few steps to look around. Perhaps the distance to his office was a factor and maybe if he simply waited here the gifter would be able to meet him. Stormcatcher reasoned to himself before sighing and sitting upon the dirt. He tucked in his tail and leaned back to gaze up at the stars.

tracer:
uses tumblr to reblog photos of dogs and cats and chat with her friends. sometimes shares inspirational memes

soldier 76:
has no time for blogs. no blogs. only war

reaper:
stopped blogging after he became reaper, but used to have a blog he used as his personal diary as reyes. he got very stressed leading up to the accident

mccree:
reblogs photos of people in stylish dresses as well as things like aesthetic photos of people enjoying whiskey on a nice day or a close-up of a glass of bourbon by the fire. likes posting snaps of himself enjoying life. it's a miracle sombra hasn't found him out

doomfist:
believes blogs are for the weak. bad doomfist

pharah:
runs a classic rock blog. all classic rock and classic metal. also has a blog of her and her squadmates having a good time, but that's just an instagram feed.

genji:
also uses his blog as a diary, and reblogs high-tier aesthetic to calm himself. sometimes is afraid that hanzo will find his blog

sombra:
runs every single blog possible, under every single persona possible. aesthetic. cute girls. vent. diary. guns. you name it

mei:
posts about her adventures across the world. sometimes slips in videos she enjoys, sometimes anime

bastion:
runs a life hacks blog, strangely enough. does not post with text, however. just videos. also runs a blog that's *just* photos of things bastion sees

widowmaker:
all aesthetic. all gloomy aesthetic, and old videos of ballet dancers. got found out by sombra and reluctantly let her follow.

torbjorn:
runs a how-to blog as well as engineering advice and sometimes his own engineering adventures. sometimes has back and forths with reinhardt

hanzo:
does not run a blog. he thinks blogs stress him out.

junkrat:
has a completely empty blog that he only uses to message others.

zarya:
runs a motivational blog all about weightlifting, sports and being strong. lots and lots of selfies.

reinhardt:
has been using tumblr on and off since being a teenager. currently uses it to reblog uplifting things and good news, but barely uses it.

orisa:
nothing but cute photos of animals and motivational stories, all the time. co-runs it with efi.

roadhog:
runs a kind of intimidating blog about guns and weapons and his opinions on omnics and pictures of scrap and rust. occasionally makes text posts about things he does, but they're very ominous.

winston:
runs a blog about cool things in science. is very enthusiastic about it.

d.va:
a gaming blog, what did you expect? also has a meme blog, a personal diary blog and a pastel blog

ana:
is part of a tea-making community on tumblr. always compliments everyone else's tea. posts very sporadically, though

zenyatta:
does not have a tumblr. that's not his thing, though mondatta had one

lucio:
has an official music blog, as well as a general personal blog about his life on tour.

symmetra:
does not have a blog bc she believes tumblr is pure disorder. she's right

Hey! Like your blog so far! Bit of an odd request but UT, UF and US skelebros reactions to learning about AUs/meeting each other for the first time. (If you want to:) Thank you!

so i’m only gonna do Red learning and meeting the others, because i can’t think of anymore atm so here hav my bbill write other characters if you ask again but this post’ll get really long and my thoughtsll get jumbled up Whoops also im tagging you in it bc its been a few days since you asked for this @fire-star12

Red learning about AUs - ”of fucking course there’s more versions of me. its just like the universe make my life way more fuckin interestin. its not like i had to go through hell and back just to make it to the surface, only to have that ripped away from me and get thrown back down here. greatttt fucking just fuckin GREAT”he’s not too thrilled if you can’t tell

Red and Sans - When Red meets Classic, he thinks that classic is a fucking pussy. He’s too lazy to take action if people knock him down, it’s like he has no fear of death. Well, neither does Red, but Red doesn’t want that fact brought up. He appreciates the puns, but there’s too many of them. He prefers knock knock jokes himself. He hates how sans is so fucking relaxed around his brother, but that actually stems from jealousy than actual hatred.

Red and Papyrus - When Red meets Papyrus, he is so fucking apprehensive, thinking that the guy is gonna snap at Red for being so chatty and not-hostile with everyone. He’s on edge around this Papyrus in particular, because hes so innocent that it cant actually be innocence, and has GOT to be some sort of front.

Red and Blueberry - When Red meets Blueberry, he’s disgusted that this alternate version of himself is so childlike and trustworthy of everything and everyone he sees. Red thinks that this creature would be dusted near instantaneously back in his universe, even faster than the spaghetti lover.

Red and Stretch - The only one Red seems to like at all, is Stretch. He appreciates how laid back Stretch is, and understands the laziness of him. He can tell he’s on edge for the protection of his brother. The only thing that makes him upset is that he can’t unsee Boss from Stretch, as they’re both papyri. he feels safer near stretch, however.

Your history teacher story reminded me of an infamous substitute we had one day. He was supposed to be teaching WWI in our American History class, but we ended up going outside and watching him fire musket blanks into the air for 40 minutes while he talked about the American Revolution. He kept throwing in references to how smart and white the founding fathers were, so it's no surprise he was eventually outed as a white supremacist. He worked there for 8 years. Hooray for no standards for subs.

As a Lulias headcanon I guess at first he would be shocked he would look into Luca’s eyes to see his true intentions behind that kiss but if he sees that he’s being honest he would not resist the need to kiss him back and show him he wont be intimidated if he feels the same (His face might be all red tho), even if there’s people around them he wouldn’t mind (Actually he probably forgets about other people being there) :3

Wait I did it all wrong, sorry 😂😂😂 Not feeling well but let’s keep that there, alright Luca being kissed by Elias…

He wouldn’t believe it at first, he would be confused as hell, and he would try to get him back in case he is playing with fire, but once he sees that Elias kissed him because he really likes him he would be happy and he wouldn’t let him go for the rest of the day, not a chance ❤❤❤ Now the Prince is his property 😊😊😊

Different anon, but Jackson knows how to SLAY the dance floor, like he's so good at breakdancing! And one day he's doing it in his trailer or something and he doesn't hear the door open, all he sees is the flash of a phone camera and he turns and sees Gale running away 😂😂

This. This is something we all know would totally happen. He’s totally got headphones on and his eyes shut. Every move he makes is done by feel because he’s in his own space. Completely in the zone. Gale sneaks up and does one of those rapid-fire photo takes that flashes a bunch of times in a row to catch the moment in a series of picture. The flashing gets through to Jackson, scaring him. He opens his eyes to see Gale laughing and running away. He yells at her, but doesn’t give chase. Because what would he do when he caught her? She’s admittedly much bigger and stronger than him. He makes a point to always treat her well so she isn’t tempted to blackmail him.

“You are magic made flesh,” he whispered, running a long, pale finger along the smooth arc of her hip. As a child they’d told him hell was full of fire, but he’d knew the opposite was true. He’d left hell behind at the age of fourteen and one day he’d burn it to the ground.

As a woman we are conditioned to almost expect this kind of behavior from men. So when a man grabbed Taylor’s ass, she didn’t go to the police (knowing the case was weak), she had him thrown out of the arena in Denver, CO and called his boss to inform them of how this man was representing KYGO.. She then gets blamed for his firing as if sexual assault isn’t a good enough reason to be fired. He then sues her for defamation of character in attempts to take money from her, nearly 4 million to be exact. Make no mistake his intentions in suing her was hoping she’d make a plea deal because she wouldn’t want or be able to sit through an eight day trial, which they maliciously extended by calling more witnesses than ever needed. But instead of taking the easy way out, she stood strong and counter sued for assault and battery, resulting in 1 dollar. It’s almost unheard of for a celebrity of her caliber to sit through this long of a trial. But damn I admire her for it. Because this guy has proven to be serious scum. He just wants money from her and I’m so fucking disgusted by this whole thing.

I’m disgusted by how a man assumes he has a right to a woman’s body.

I’m disgusted by how this man is blatantly trying to acquire money from her.

I’m disgusted by how the public is turning this into a fucking media circus and camping on the sidewalks like it’s a fucking concert. And taking her photo and treating this law suit over sexual assault like a fucking meet and greet.

And I’m so disgusted by how the media (FUCK YOU TMZ) leaked a SEALED PHOTO OF A SEXUAL ASSAULT AS IF ITS NO BIG DEAL BECAUSE IT IS TAYLOR SWIFT AND SHES NOT A PERSON I GUESS?? ?? Because if it was any other victim, there is a code within the media, and they wouldn’t post that shit or even their name.

And IM SO DISGUSTED WITH HOW SUDDENLY EVERY FEMINIST ON GODS GREEN MOTHER FUCKING EARTH IS SILENT WHEN A MAN GRABS A WOMAN BECAUSE THE WOMAN IS TAYLOR FUCKING SWIFT